


Free Falling

by bracus09



Series: ABC SEAL Team Whump [6]
Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Gen, RJ Perry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bracus09/pseuds/bracus09
Summary: When a training mission comes up with an unexpected injury.
Series: ABC SEAL Team Whump [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611082
Comments: 34
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> Here is the next installment of the SEAL Team ABC Whump series.
> 
> This is going to be "F for Fracture"
> 
> Enjoy!

Everyone that was going to complete the HAHO jump had their oxygen masks on pre-breathing in preparation for the jump. One of the flight crew got up, checked a meter, looked back to where the team was sitting and circled his arm in the air showing them it was go time.

Jason was the first to get up and unhook his pre-breathing mask saying, “Let’s go. Get up. Break down the pallet.”

Everyone unhooked their masks, started to get jocked up in their jump suits, grabbing their guns and the equipment they would need once they hit the ground. Helping each other make sure their straps were tight and buckles snapped properly, it took the team less than ten minutes to be ready to jump. Lisa also stood up to help Brock secure Cerberus to his chest in his specialized harness and slipped the specialized oxygen mask over the dog’s face.

The strap stood next to Sonny, looking a little dazed and pale, not sure if he wanted to go through with this. Sonny turned and started helping the strap with the oxygen mask and that all the equipment for the tandem jump was good to go. Clay stood towards the back of the group, and Trent came over to double check his equipment. Once he double checked Clay’s gear, he returned the same check on Trent’s.

The jump alarm then sounded, and a red light bathed the area. Jason held up both hands and yelled, “Ten,” through his oxygen jump mask. The gesture was repeated by everyone that was going to complete the jump. That’s when the ramp to the back of the C-17 started to lower in preparation for the HAHO jump. When the ramp was halfway down, Jason held up a hand with five fingers out.

Jason then turned to Sonny and nodded his head. Sonny had the strap strapped to him and ready to go. Through the comms, Sonny asked, “You ready?”

The strap just nodded his head, “Yeah, great.”

Sonny tried to be reassuring, “You are gonna be fine.” And then he started shuffling forward. Once he got to the ramp, he double tapped the strap’s shoulder and let gravity do the rest of the work.

He was soon followed by the rest of the team, out the back of the airplane. Clay was last in line. Leaning forward, he let gravity do its job and within a split second, it sucked him out of the plane. Ice cold air nips at his cheeks, but despite the cold, an exhilarated smile followed by the burst of adrenaline and excitement he felt. It didn’t matter how many times he has parachuted out of a plane, it just felt as good as the first time, but now with the extra thought in the back of his head of his best friend’s death.

Clay pulled his chute open, bracing himself for the abrupt pull upwards when the chute was filled with air. Looking through the green haze that his night vision goggles provided, he quickly focused his mind to the mission and followed all the other chutes towards the landing zone.

Suddenly, there was a side wind when Clay was about ten feet from the ground. One minute he had his landing in sight and the next he was on the ground, in a different location that he had targeted. He glanced to his right, staring at Trent, who had also been blown off course. They’d been hit by a ferocious gust of wind. Both had managed to land on their feet, but they were a little dazed by that sudden gust.

“Spenser, you okay?” Trent asked, always thinking of his teammates first.

“Yeah, I think so.” Clay took a couple of deep breaths, shook off the initial shock of the abrupt landing and started gathering his chute.

When everyone had landed in the landing zone, they unhooked their chutes as they dropped down on the ground.

Bravo quickly packed their chutes away, and quietly made their way to the target house. In the silence of the night, the only thing that could be heard, if you were searching for it, was the rapid breathing of the team and Cerberus’ soft whines every time he smelt something he didn’t like.

Bravo was on a training mission in preparation for the real mission that would be taking place in northern Mongolia on the Russian border. There were murmurings of Russian military movement on the country border, and Mongolia wanted to make sure that Russia was staying on their side. Unfortunately, the area with the reported activity was heavily monitored by Russia, so they would have to HAHO in and hike out to an area where Davis would have an indig vehicle waiting for them. They were practicing at home before they had to land in a Mongolian field next to a forest, they would have to hike through to get to the surveillance location. The training had already been delayed three hours due to the weather, but it finally settled down long enough for them to get up and get the jump in.

“You sure you’re alright?” Trent asked as Clay had packed his chute and came to stand next to Bravo’s medic to get into position to hike their pickup point.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Can’t believe I landed on my feet like that. Thought for sure I would be eating dirt.” Clay responded with a smirk.

“Cats always land on their feet,” Brock replied as he walked over to them with a chuckle, Cerberus pulling on the lead.

“Cats?” Clay questioned.

“Well, I always say you have nine lives…” Brock replied with his innocent smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Very funny. Don’t give up your day job.” Clay said as he got ready to hike out and finish the training.

***

After two hours passed, they finally wrapped everything up and they could go home. It was nearly 8:00 AM on Friday morning and they were all going to be off duty for the rest of the day… hopefully for the entire weekend. All Clay wanted to do was climb into his Nova, drive home, and sleep for twelve hours. But he was filthy and reeked of sweat, so he forced himself into the shower first.

When he emerged from his cage, in a fresh set of clothes, he found Sonny slumped in his chair in his cage looking as exhausted as Clay felt.

“You look like hell, Son.” Clay said with a chuckle.

“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, Bam Bam.” Sonny quipped back.

“We are off for the rest of the day, and hoping for a clear weekend, and I swear to God I’m going to do nothing but sleep,” Clay declared as he reached down to grab his bag. “I can’t wait until this mission is green lit.”

Sonny nodded in agreement and pushed himself up off the bench with a weary sigh. “Guess I should get cleaned up and go home.”

“Hey, are we still on for poker Saturday?” Clay was rooting around in his cage as he spoke, trying to find the boots he’d worn in from home.

“Yeah, I guess so. Unless I find my way to the Boom Boom Room.” Sonny replied.

Clay snorted at that and flashed Sonny a teasing grin. “Well, I’ll text you Saturday morning and see if you want some manly company, alright?” Realizing that his boots were nowhere to be seen in his cage, he leaned against the side of the cage door. “If you guys hid my boots again, I swear I’m going to get even.”

He was halfway across the team room when Trent called out from his cage, “What’s the matter with your foot?”

“Huh?” Clay stopped and cast a quizzical glance over his shoulder. “Nothing. Why?”

“You’re favoring your right foot when you walk.” Came Trent’s reply.

“I am?” Clay stared down at his sock clad feet for a moment. “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. The sudden gust of wind from the jump caused me to land hard on a gravel patch instead of grass. Probably just bruised something. No big deal.”

“You had a hard landing?” Jason piped up with concern. “Did you let Trent check you out?”

“Nah,” Clay waved an impatient hand in their direction. “No need to. Landed on my feet, no harm no foul. Honestly, it surprised me more than anything. I’m fine.”

“Maybe you should have Trent look at it, or stop by the infirmary and have it checked out?” Ray tried this time.

“Guys, I’m fine.” Clay replied firmly. “Or at least I will be as soon as I find my damn boots.”

“I really think you should let me check it out, just to be safe.” Trent was nothing if not persistent.

“You are making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s just a bruise. It hardly even hurts. I’ll go home, go to bed with an ice pack and it’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Clay stated back to the team.

“Well, okay.” Trent sounded dubious. “But if it’s not better by tomorrow, promise me you’ll get it checked out.”

“Alright, Mother. I promise. Now everyone can go home and get some sleep. We all look like we are ready to fall asleep standing up.” Clay said as he finally found his boots, next to Brock’s cage.

***

True to his word, Clay went home and went to bed with an ice pack. More accurately, he went to bed with a bag of frozen peas because the ice maker didn’t have any ice in it. Exhaustion set in the minute his head hit the pillow and he was out like a light.

He woke in the mid-afternoon to an empty stomach, a full bladder and a bed full of peas. The bag had broken while he slept.

“You got to be fucking kidding me!” He slapped at the sheet in annoyance, succeeding only in scattering half a dozen peas onto the carpet. With a disgusted sigh, Clay clambered out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He made it exactly two steps before the searing pain in his right heel nearly sent him crashing to the floor.

“Shit!” he exclaimed again, grabbing at the dresser for support. He lifted the offending foot and was startled to find that his heel was swollen and ringed with dark bruises. “What the hell?”

“Must have bruised it worse than I thought,” he muttered as he hobbled to the bathroom, careful not to put any weight on his right heel. As he prepared himself to face the day, Clay thought briefly of his promise he made to the team that he’d have his foot checked if it wasn’t any better. “It’s just a bruise,” he told himself firmly. “It needs rest, ice and elevation. Nothing that I can’t do on my own.”

‘Besides,’ he reasoned, ‘I have a lot to do. There are peas ground into his last clean set of sheets, he needs to get some groceries and he promised Mrs. Turpin down the hall, who was a new widow, that he’d take a look at her leaky faucet.’

“Tomorrow,” he promised himself. “If it’s not better tomorrow, I’ll get it checked out in the infirmary.”

After preparing himself a simple dinner, Clay settled in front of the TV with his foot wrapped in a bag of frozen carrots. “I should have remembered to start the ice maker this morning,” he thought with a smile. “And pick up more frozen veggies while I’m at the store.” By the time he had finished eating and watched the news, his heel was feeling better. He took some Advil as a precaution, eased his feet carefully into a pair of battered flip flops and headed out to run his errands.

***

Four in the morning, Clay was sprawled on his couch, staring blankly at a movie that was being played from his Netflix account. He is replaying his favorite movie, Sandlot, but for once, he wasn’t enjoying the movie. In fact, he wasn’t really paying attention to it. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep. He’d tried to do just that a few hours ago, but without success. He’d downed a few beers, taken twice as much Advil as the label on the bottled recommended, elevated his foot on a pillow and wrapped it in a proper ice pack. None of it had helped. The pain in his heel had become as constant and annoying as a toothache. After an hour, he’d given up and hauled himself out of bed.

“Face it,” he muttered to himself, “It’s getting worse instead of better. Guess I should have listened to Trent and the team and gotten it checked out. Gonna owe them a case of beer now.”

But he hadn’t, in spite of the fact that deep down, he’d know the team was right. He’d know back at the base when he’d pried his tactical boots off and headed for the shower. But he’d ignored it, played dumb when Trent caught him limping and brushed off the team’s concern. Because admitting it, meant admitting he’d been hurt while on duty. Again.

Remembering Brock’s ‘nine lives’ remark, Clay groaned and scrubbed at his face.

He hated the constant jokes about his penchant for getting hurt. Yeah, he’d had more than his fair share of injuries but was that his fault? It wasn’t like he was asked to be injured on the different rescues and ops. Bad things just happened to him. A lot. It was almost, he mused, as if someone out there enjoyed seeing him get hurt.

Clay glanced at his watch. 4:30 AM. He briefly considered getting dressed and driving over to the base infirmary but discarded the idea. There was nothing more annoying than someone knowing about something for several hours or even days, and then waiting at really bad times to get help. Been on more than enough emergency ops because of that. He refused to be guilty of the very same thing. He will tough it out until a more acceptable morning time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And someone finally goes to get their foot checked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look at this! I updated! It only took a few weeks.
> 
> And just FYI, remote learning is hell. For both sides of the screen.

Clay drifted into an uneasy slumber shortly before dawn; he was awakened a mere two hours later by the ringer on his phone sitting only inches from his head. Holding one hand over his racing heart, he fumbled for his phone with the other without looking at the caller ID.

“H’lo?” He mumbled.

“Blondzilla? Is that you?” Sonny’s voice came through.

“Sonny?” His voice was thick with fatigue. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Sonny?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Sonny replied.

“What time is it?” Clay said, scrubbing his face, trying to wake up.

“It’s a few minutes after 9:00 AM. Please don’t tell me that I woke Pretty Boy from your beauty sleep.” Sonny chuckled.

“I, uh, had kind of a late night.” Clay admitted.

“Oh, I see.” Sonny’s voice took on a knowing tone. “Was she blonde, brunette or redhead? And was she any good?”

“Gray, actually,” Clay replied with a smile. “I fixed my neighbor’s leaky faucet and she insisted on feeding me homemade chocolate cake afterward.”

“And she kept you out until all hours of the night?” Sonny’s voice was disbelieving.

“Well, no. But I didn’t get out of bed until afternoon, so come nighttime, I wasn’t really tired. I stayed up and watched a movie on Netflix.” Clay knew that not telling Sonny the truth would probably bite him in the ass. He was just postponing the inevitable, but for some reason, he just couldn’t make himself admit to his brother that he was hurting. Not yet.

“Well, I won’t keep you from your beauty sleep,” Sonny was saying. “I just wanted to let you know we’re still on for poker. Everyone is meeting at Ray’s around 6:00 PM, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Good deal. I’ll see you then.” Clay ended the call and heaved himself off the couch to begin the arduous task of getting himself to the base infirmary. It was proving to be even more difficult than he’d expected.

Bearing weight on his right heel was exquisitely painful, much worse than it had been the night before. He was forced to hop to the bathroom where he showered while balancing precariously on one leg. Getting dressed was a little easier since he could do most of it sitting down but putting on his socks nearly reduced him to tears.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You really did it to yourself this time.” He gritted his teeth and forced his right foot into some slip-on shoes. He got the shoe on, barely, but the pain left him sprawled across the bed sucking in air and fighting the urge to vomit. It took him another 10 minutes to work up the energy to get off the bed.

Using anything and everything he could grab onto for support, Clay made his way to the living room, grabbed his keys and hopped out the door. Getting down the four steps in front of his apartment building to the parking lot seemed as impossible as skiing down Mt. Everest, but somehow, he made it and dragged himself into his Nova. Exhausted and wet with sweat, he leaned his head against the seat back and closed his eyes, gathering his strength for the next step: driving to the base.

Clay actually had the engine running and the car in gear before he realized the futility of his plan. The second he tried to apply the slightest pressure to the gas pedal, his heel exploded in pain; pain so severe it left him gritting his teeth in the front seat of his care. How he had the presence of mind to throw the gear shift into park and turn off the engine, he’d never know. He lay there panting for several long minutes then leaned to one side to pull his phone out of his pocket.

Wiping the perspiration off his face with a shaking hand, he debated on who to call to take him into the base infirmary.

He hit the contact and heard it ring. “Hey, Sonny? I need a favor.”

***

“You fell how far?” The doctor asked as he was gently palpating Clay’s heel as he spoke.

“I’d say about the final 10 feet or so. OW!” Clay exclaimed, which was the result of the doctor touching a particularly sensitive spt.

“Sorry,” the doctor released Clay’s foot and regarded the young SEAL sternly. “You should have come in right away.”

“Yeah, Doc, I know. I already got that lecture on the way over here.” Clay glanced at Sonny, who was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, chewing on his toothpick, glowering back at him.

The Doc exchanged a knowing glance with Sonny and chuckled. “I’m sure you did, and you deserved it, but I won’t make you sit through the lecture again. We need to get some x-rays of course, but I’m almost positive you have what’s called a Paratrooper’s fracture. Ever heard of it?”

Clay’s brow knitted in concentration. “Yeah, I think so. Something about high impact falls, isn’t it? Trying to remember back to when I first learned to jump.”

“It is. And it’s a very common injury among paratrooper’s who land improperly, hence its name. When you fall from a height and land in a standing position, it drives your heel into the ground like a pile driver. The force of the impact can actually shatter the bone. I don’t think yours is that bad or you wouldn’t have been able to walk on it at all. I suspect you got lucky.” The doctor explained.

Clay snorted at that.

The doctor smiled and patted his patient’s leg. “I know, I know, it doesn’t seem that way right now, but most of the Paratrooper fractures I’ve seen have been severe. The patients ended up in surgery and on crutches for months.”

Clay laid his head back and groaned. Hearing movement, Clay looked over at Sonny, who had pushed himself away from the wall and came to stand by his brother’s side, silently offering support.

“Since you were able to bear weight at first, I suspect you have a much less severe fracture, probably an incomplete or hairline fracture. If that’s the case, odds are you won’t need surgery. Let’s get the x-ray and take it from there, alright?” The doctor said.

Clay nodded his consent.

Sonny shifted from foot to foot, moved his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other several times, but ultimately, he remained silent… for once.

“Go ahead,” Clay sighed.

“What?” Sonny replied innocently.

“Go ahead and say, ‘Told you so’. I know you’re dying to.” Clay said, not even looking over at the Texan.

Sonny ducked his head in an attempt to hide his smile. “I wasn’t gonna say that.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” Clay grumpily replied, finally looking over.

There was a long moment of silence and then Sonny spoke up softly. “I told you so.”

***

Just as the doctor had predicted, the x-rays showed a fracture in Clay’s heel. After consulting with an orthopedic surgeon over the phone, the doctor sent Clay back for more x-rays: two views of his uninjured left heel and a series of films called tomograms. The exam didn’t hurt but lying there watching the x-ray camera swing back and forth above him was a bit unnerving.

When the exam was completed, Clay was wheeled back into the original room he was in with Sonny to wait for a consultation with the orthopedist. Sonny had grabbed some coffee and sent a couple of texts, including one to Jason and Blackburn. Clay shuddered at the thought of their reactions.

He knew the Texan talking-to that he got from Sonny would be nothing compared to the tongue-lashing he was in store for next time he saw Trent. Worse yet, everyone on the team would know, and there will be another round of “told you so’s”.

Clay was startled from his unhappy reverie by the sound of a familiar voice. “Well, look who we have here.”

Lisa stood in the doorway dressed in her fatigues, an amused expression on her face.

“Hey Lisa,” he replied with a wan smile. “Thought you had the day off with the rest of us.”

“It was, until we got more intel on a different op,” she crossed the room to stand by Clay’s bed. “I’m over here because one of support dropped a file while he was walking down the stairs, slipped on said file and landed on his wrist. Pretty sure it isn’t broken, but we are making sure. And as I’m walking through, I get a text from Sonny saying my favorite accident-prone operator is getting his foot checked out. What happened this time?”

Clay related the story of his accident listlessly, concluding with, “So now I’m waiting for this orthopedic guy to show up and ruin my day even more.”

“Well, from the sound of things, it could have been a lot worse. You know, Spenser, you’ve got the best bad luck of anyone I know.” Lisa smiles at him.

“How do you figure that?” Sonny asked.

“Because as often as you get hurt, the injuries are never as bad as they could have been, and you always bounce back in record time.” Lisa responded.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Clay sighed.

Lisa cocked her head and gave him a long, assessing look. “So, why the long face?”

“I dunno. I guess maybe I’m tired of my accident-prone reputation on the teams.” Clay pushed himself up on his elbows and stared glumly down at his swollen foot. “It gets old after a while, ya know?”

“Hey, everyone will look back at this and eventually laugh. You weren’t hurt seriously.” Lisa tried to explain.

Clay thumped his head back down onto his pillow with an unhappy sigh. “And why the hell do these things keep happening to me? I’m not a klutz, Davis; I swear I’m not. And I’m not reckless, even though I’ve been accused of it once or twice. I know proper procedure. I take precautions, but stuff like this,” he gestured toward his foot, “Keeps happening anyway.”

“Want to know what I think?” Lisa said as she leaned against the doorway.

Clay glanced at her suspiciously, and Sonny raised his eyebrow. “I’m not sure I do.”

Lisa smiled. “No jokes, I promise.”

“Yeah, okay, what do you think?” Clay asked cautiously.

“You’re a good operator, Clay, and a good person. You care about people. You want to help them and you’re willing to put yourself on the line to do it. When there’s a difficult situation, you never hesitate to jump in and do what needs to be done. If that’s recklessness, then we need more reckless people.” Lisa finished with a small smile.

Clay shifted uncomfortably on the narrow bed, his face hot with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. “Thanks, Davis,” he mumbled, not quite able to meet her eyes.

“You’re welcome,” she replied warmly. “Now, I’ve got to get going. I need to get back to Blackburn and you know how grumpy he is when he’s waiting on someone. I’ll see you around, boys!”

Both Clay and Sonny mumbled a goodbye and gave a short wave as Lisa exited.

She left the room, only to poke her head back in a second later. “Oh, and Clay?”

“Yeah?” Clay replied.

“Your orthopedic ‘guy’ is coming down the hall.” She reported.

“About time.” Sonny complained.

Lisa ignored him and continued, “I have a feeling you won’t mind the wait so much when you see Dr. Winters.”

“Oh, really and why is that?” Clay questioned.

“You’ll find out in a minute,” Lisa flashed them a cryptic smile and was gone.

A moment later, the doctor entered the room. “Petty Officer Spenser? I’m Dr. Winters.”

The orthopedic surgeon the previous doctor had consulted was a woman; and a young attractive woman at that. Female doctors have become more common in recent years in the Navy, but both Clay and Sonny had met very few in their time, and none were tall, willowy, brunette with a very nice figure.

Clay sat up straight, made sure his curls were out of his eyes and fixed her with his best smile. “Hello!”

Much to his dismay, Dr. Winters seemed more interested in his x-rays than she did in him. After a perfunctory greeting, she went to the computer to view his films and spent a long time studying them. She even started making lines on the x-rays with the computer mouse, drawing a pair of intersecting lines on one image and then repeating the procedure on the matching view of the left heel. When she’d measured and re-measured the angle formed by the lines she’d drawn, she finally turned back to her eager patient.

“Well, Petty Officer Spenser…” She started.

“Call me Clay.” The smile got a bit wider, and Clay heard Sonny snicker.

“Clay,” the doctor nodded in acknowledgement, seemingly unimpressed by the dazzling smile beaming her way. “As Dr. Wells already informed you, you’ve sustained an incomplete fracture of your right heel.”

Clay nodded and switched tactics. If the smile didn’t work, the wounded puppy dog look surely would.

“According to the measurements I just took, the Bohler’s angle of your right heel is thirty degrees. That’s five degrees less than the corresponding measurement of your left heel which is a clear indication of a fracture.” She started to explain.

Clay stared at her, perplexed. He prided himself on his medical knowledge he has learned from Trent but he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. He wondered briefly if the tall, blond and dumb look he was almost certainly sporting would do him any good. The wounded puppy dog certainly hadn’t seemed to defrost Dr. Winters.

“However,” the doctor continued calmly, “Thirty degrees is well within the normal range. Additionally, a careful review of your tomograms shows that the sub-talar joint and the posterior facet appear stable.

Clay sincerely hoped the lost and confused look was doing something for her.

“I don’t feel that surgery is necessary in this case.” Dr. Winters finished.

Now that Clay understood and he practically wilted in relief. “Great! So, what are we talking about? Walking boot? Crutches for a couple weeks?”

“Unfortunately, it’s a bit more complicated than that.” Dr. Winters stated, not looking remorseful at all.

“But you just said I was fine!” Clay protested, his sense of relief disappearing in a flash.

“No, I said you didn’t need surgery. You still have a serious injury. Treated improperly, your foot could become unstable and then surgery would be required.” She stated.

“So, what do I have to do?” He was almost afraid to ask.

“I’m ordering complete bed rest until all signs of swelling are gone; at least a week, I’d think. Minimum of six weeks in a cast with absolutely no weight bearing.” Was the answer.

Suddenly the lovely young doctor didn’t look so lovely. As she went on to outline the treatment plan she had in mind for him, she became less and less enchanting. And when she announced that she wanted the complete bed rest to take place in the infirmary so she could monitor him, Clay decided he didn’t like her at all.

“Listen, Doc, there’s no reason for me to stay in the hospital. I can rest at home.” Clay reasoned.

Dr. Winters was shaking her head almost before he finished the sentence. “I’d rather have you here. You need to stay off that foot, keep it elevated and keep ice on it as much as possible. Being home, you’d be too tempted to get up when you shouldn’t. I’m going to admit you here.”

“Now hold on a minute,” Clay protested. “I know what complete bed rest means and if you tell me it’s important, I’ll take you at your word. But I can do it just as well at home as I can here. I live in an apartment with an elevator, so I don’t even have to go up and down steps. I’ll be fine.”

“And you’ll stay in bed all day?” She was clearly skeptical.

“Yes,” Clay stated firmly, watching Sonny over the doctor’s shoulder and he was trying not to laugh.

“Do you live alone, Petty Officer Spenser?” She questioned.

“Yeah, I do.” He wondered briefly what had happened to calling him Clay. He wasn’t making any headway at all.

“So, while you’re staying in bed all day, who is going to get your meals?”

“Uh, well…” Clay started to defend.

“And what about laundry and other basic household chores? Who’s going to change your ice packs? Get you a drink of water? Bring you your medication?” Dr. Winters continued to press.

“Um…” Clay stared at her dumb founded at everything she just stated.

“I’m sure you have good intentions, Petty Officer Spenser, but there’s no way you’ll get the kind of rest you need at home. You tell yourself you can stay in bed all day but it’s impossible. You’ll find yourself getting up every couple hours and that just won’t do.” Dr. Winters explained, voice making no room for argument.

“But, Doc,” Clay cringed at the whiny tone of his own voice, “Isn’t there some other way? I really don’t want to spend a week in the infirmary.”

“He can stay with someone on the teams,” Sonny stood from where he was leaning against the wall, coffee mug in his hand. “We can work out one of use staying with you and rotate.”

“No,” Clay protested immediately. “I’m not going to be a burden on the team.”

“It’s not a burden twinkle toes.” Sonny smirked. “Besides, it will get one of us out of doing drills each day.”

“No, Son. Blackburn will never go for it. I’ll be fine at home.” Clay stated.

“I don’t think the doc is going to let you go home alone, Brainiac.” Sonny said, pointing to said doctor.

Dr. Winters spoke up quickly. “No, I’m not. But I’d consider letting you go home with your friend if there’s someone with you at all times.”

“One of us or our teammate’s wife, who is a nurse, can be home all day with him.” Sonny explained. “All of our homes are single level or have elevators, so we won’t have to worry about getting his butt upstairs.”

“He’d have to stay off his foot at all times. He’d only be allowed up to go to the bathroom,” the doctor warned. “If he needs anything, water, his phone or a snack, anything, someone would have to bring it to him. Is your team willing to take on that responsibility?”

“Absolutely, ma’am, and I know the rest of the guys will agree. And Ray’s kids will fall over themselves to help their ‘Uncle Clay’.” Sonny added with a chuckle.

“Fine then. It’s settled. You can take him home.” Dr. Winters agreed.

“Now wait a damn minute!” Clay was outraged. “I never agreed to this! Sonny, I’m not going to put this on the team.”

“Then I’ll admit you to the infirmary,” the doctor announced calmly.

“Sonny, come on, help me out here, would ya?” Clay turned around and asked.

“Bam Bam! That’s what I’m trying to do!” Sonny stated, giving Clay an exasperated look.

Clay glared at his brother, then at the doctor, then back at Sonny. They both stared back at him. “Oh, alright,” he snarled, making sure they knew it was anything but. “I can see I’m out numbered and have no back up. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Good.” The doctor finally favored Clay with a smile.

Sonny, for once, didn’t comment from the peanut gallery. He just stood there, sipping his coffee and looking smug.

Dr. Winters printed a subscription out from the computer. “Here’s something for pain.” She took the paper off the printer and handed it to Sonny. “I’ll need to see him in my office here at the infirmary in about a week. Let’s see, this is Saturday, isn’t it? Let’s say a week from Monday. Just call my office next week and set up an appointment. I think I have a card here with the number.” She fished in her pocket for a moment and produced a business card. “My office and the receptionist are on there. Don’t hesitate to call if there is a problem.”

“I won’t,” Sonny assured her, tucking the card and prescription into his front shirt pocket.

“I’ll have the nurse come in and set you up with a splint and some crutches, Petty Officer Spenser. As soon as they’re done with you, you’re free to go. Now remember, complete bed rest until I see you again in my office.” Dr. Winters prattled out as she finished up on the computer.

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Clay said, pouting as his week from hell was about to begin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And only Clay can this happen to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> I'm alive! It only took me 2 months and 8 days to update. Thank you for still hanging with this story.
> 
> This story is done, I just need to get the last chapter beta-read, and then it will be up.
> 
> And for all of you out there that has to deal with Remote Learning? It's the devil. Pure evil. 
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe and well out there!

And so, Clay found himself ensconced in the Perry house for what turned out to be a very long week. The guys were good company when they were around, and they kept Clay up to date on team gossip. Naima was a kind, good-humored hostess who mothered him just enough to make him feel welcome but not enough to smother him. Ten-year-old Jameelah was in school all day and busy with homework and her friends but found time nearly every evening to hang out with her Uncle Clay watching TV with him.

  
It would have been rather pleasant, Clay reflected on day four of his stay, if not for RJ. Clay was fond of the five-year old and he practically worshipped all the guys on the team. Normally, he enjoyed RJ’s company and found him endlessly amusing. Unfortunately, RJ had appointed himself his personal nurse, errand boy and entertainment director and he was relentless in the pursuit of his duties. He brought Clay snacks when he wasn’t hungry, glass after glass of sickeningly sweet Kool-Aid and stacks of old magazines, though why he thought he’d be interested in ‘Good Housekeeping’, he couldn’t imagine. RJ perched on the floor beside him while he was on the couch, and chattered endlessly about his friends, his favorite cartoons, the little league basketball team was on, and anything else he could think of. He even serenaded him several times a day with “Jesus Love the Little Children” which he’d learned in Sunday school the previous week. He told Clay knock-knock jokes and always got the punch lines wrong. They played endless card and board games. They had reading time every day. And then it was the trucks. There was a dump truck, a cement truck, and a heavy loader including wood blocks to haul around. Along with the trucks, there were the sounds of the trucks. There were horns, back up alarms, crashing together and he loved the fire truck siren. All in all, it was a VERY long week.

  
***

  
“Good morning, gentlemen. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.” Dr. Winters breezed into the exam room looking as cool and lovely as Clay remembered.

  
Trent, who had driven Clay to his doctor’s appointment, spoke up. “We’ve only been here a few minutes.”

  
“Yeah, just cooling our heels.” Clay sarcastically stated, which got him a stink-eye from Trent.

  
Dr. Winters was, as before, all business. She did a thorough exam of Clay’s foot and seemed pleased with the results. “The swelling is completely gone, and the bruising is nearly gone as well. You’ve obviously done as I instructed and stayed off it.”

  
“Oh, yeah,” Clay replied with a smirk. “I had a very devoted nurse attending to my every want and desire.”

  
“Our teammate’s toddler son,” Trent supplied in response to the doctor’s raised eyebrow.

  
“I see. Well, whatever the reason, it’s to your benefit, Petty Officer Spenser. Did you stop by radiology on your way up and have another set of pictures done?” Dr. Winters asked as she logged into the computer.

  
“We did.” Trent replied, giving Clay a look to eat his words before he even spoke them.

  
Pulling up the new x-rays, she started making lines on them moving the computer mouse to mark specific spots, drawing lines, and measuring angles. “Very good,” she announced when she’d finished. “Still thirty degrees on the right and thirty-five degrees on the left. No increase in the length or width of the fracture line., no displacement of the fracture fragments. I think we’re ready to move on to the next step.”

  
“Which is a cast, right?” Clay asked.

  
“That’s right, Petty Officer. And you’ll need to stay off your foot until the fracture is completely healed; at least six weeks.” Dr. Winter explained.

  
“Yeah, okay,” he sighed, remembering how bad it was when he hobbled around on the injured knee… let alone a broken leg.

  
“And when I say stay off of it, I mean just that,” Dr. Winters cautioned. “Absolutely no weight bearing at all. You have an incomplete fracture, but your heel is still very unstable. One wrong step and the fracture could expand and become much more serious. Then we’d have no choice except surgery, and you’d be subject to a whole host of possible complications.”

  
“Such as?” Trent asked, for his own medical curiosity.

  
“Such as a flat foot, joint locking, joint fusion, shortening of the calf muscles including the Achilles, chronic heel pain, arthritis…” Dr. Winters started listing.  
“Okay, okay.” Clay held up his hands as if to ward her off. “I’ll be a good boy, I promise.”

  
“Alright then, let’s put your cast on and then you can go home.” Dr. Winters stated as she typed a few things into the computer.

  
“Home as in home or home as in Ray’s place?” Clay questioned as Dr. Winters got up, started opening cabinets and began gathering her supplies and preparing to apply the cast.

  
“Did you tell me you lived in an apartment?” She asked, reaching into a cabinet.

  
“Yeah.” Clay said, side-eyeing Trent, worried what the doctor would say.

  
“No stairs?” She glared at him.

  
“The apartment building is ADA compliant and there is an elevator to the third floor.” Clay explained.

  
“Well, if you can manage on your own and keep your weight off your right foot, then it’s fine with me if you go to your own home.” Dr. Winters relented.

“Thank you, Lord! It will be so nice to be back in my own place!” Clay glanced over his teammate with a sheepish grin. “Uh, nothing personal to Ray. Everyone has been awesome, it’s just that, well…” He shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

  
“It’s just that playing board games with a toddler cramps your swinging bachelor lifestyle?” Trent flashed him a teasing smile.

  
“Yeah,” Clay smiled back. “Yeah, that’s what we are going with.”

  
***

  
It was great to be home. He slept in his own bed, lounged on his own sofa, didn’t have to surrender the TV remote to anyone, didn’t have to play board games, didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. He had a beer with lunch without fear of recrimination; he texted one of the women he had been seeing casually and invited her over for dinner… and breakfast. It was great to be home. For about a week. And then the team was called out on an op and he got bored and restless. And lonely.

  
He couldn’t drive, couldn’t get far on foot, and he wasn’t a fan of spending all his money on an Uber. The team and their wives or girlfriends would text him to make sure he was good on food and supplies. The guys stopped by to visit, bringing care packages, or in Sonny’s case 6-packs of his favorite microbrew. They also kept him up to date on the latest gossip on base, but they had lives of their own and Clay frequently found himself wondering what he should do to pass the time.

  
It was Mrs. Turpin, his neighbor from across the hall, who kept him sane during his long recovery. She was a sweet, spunky little woman in her 70’s who reminded him a great deal of his own grandmother. Her husband had passed away shortly before Clay was selected to Bravo and her only son lived on the West Coast. Clay had taken to checking in on her from time to time, helping her with little things when he was home. She repaid him with homemade goodies and funny stories about her time as a hippy during the 60’s.

  
Mrs. T, as he’d taken to calling her, had been in the main lobby area, getting her mail when Clay returned from his week at the Perry’s. “Oh, Clay! I wondered where you have been these last few days! You poor, poor thing! What on Earth happened?”

  
When he had explained, she clucked sympathetically and bustled off to make him lunch. Clay had put up a token protest, but Mrs. T was a great cook and he wanted to get off his crutches. Before he knew it, she was bringing him lunch every day, insisting it was the least she could do after he had fixed her kitchen sink.

  
“You have been such a big help since I don’t have William to help around the place anymore, Clay. I would have had to call someone in, and it would have cost me an arm and a leg to get it fixed. So, yes, I most certainly will fix you lunch and that’s all there is to it!” She stated.

  
“Yes, ma’am,” he had replied with a grin, digging into the homemade soup she’d set before him. “But only if you bring enough for two and eat with me.”  
And so, every weekday afternoon found Clay and Mrs. T eating off TV trays and watching soap operas. Much to his amazement, Clay enjoyed it. The good company, the good food and, though he’d rather be captured and tortured by the enemy than admit it to bravo, but the romantic trials and tribulations on Days of our Lives had him hooked. He told himself he only watched out of consideration for Mrs. T and because the dark-haired girl who played Hope Williams was a real looker, but deep down, Clay knew he was kidding himself. He was hooked on the damn show, plain and simple.

  
***

  
Just over a month into Clay’s convalescence, Mrs. Turpin’s son, James, and his family came to visit. During their stay, Clay found himself the guest at more than one boisterous family dinner. Mrs. T’s three grandchildren were fascinated with the injured SEAL who lived down the hall. The eldest, thirteen-year-old Lily, showed all the signs of a major crush, blushing uncontrollably if he spoke to her and darting glances at him from behind the curtain of her long, brown hair when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  
On Sunday, the last day of their visit, the family decided to hold a picnic on the small lawn that bordered the side of the apartment building. Clay had been invited but declined. The previous day had been rainy and the narrow stretch of ground was slick and soggy, a veritable minefield to someone on crutches.  
Lily, red-faced and stammering, brought him a plate heaped with food and a sweating Solo cup of homemade lemonade, bobbed her head in response to his thanks and fled the apartment. He tucked into his exceptional food and decided he needed to make a trip to the picnic area to express his thanks to the family personally.

  
He was just exiting the building, when he heard the revving of his neighbor’s car engine. Clay shook his head. This particular neighbor had a habit of speeding through the parking lot, not caring if anyone was in the way. He especially got reckless after an argument with his girlfriend.

  
As he rounded the building, he could see the youngest grandson, David, playing in the parking lot shooting hoops at the basketball hoop. Further down, he could see his stupid ass neighbor. The boyfriend in the car, revving the engine with the window rolled down arguing with his girlfriend who was screeching over the sound of the engine.

  
Clay watched in slow motion as he saw his neighbor throw his car in reverse and sped backwards out of the parking space, leaving the girlfriend standing there, still screaming her head off. The neighbor turned his car towards the direction where David was shooting hoops. Without so much as a second’s hesitation, Clay dropped the crutches and ran, as best he could, down the sidewalk, over the lawn that encircled the building and across the lawn to David’s side as he kept his eye on his neighbor speeding closer to the child. With a final leap, Clay tackled David as his neighbor’s car reached them. He managed to wrap his arms around David, turned his body so if they were hit by the car, he would take the brunt of the impact. Clay felt his momentum shift with gravity as the neighbor’s car was upon them and he impacted the pavement, he heard David cry out, and felt the car run over his casted leg.

  
At this point, his neighbor slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop, and Mrs. T, William and Linda, Mrs. Turpin’s daughter-in-law, came running over positively frantic.

  
“That idiot almost hit my son! How could he not see him! Did he hit you? He just… I couldn’t…” William was babbling hysterically, but it was quickly turning to anger.

  
“It’s okay, William,” Clay’s heart was hammering in his chest at the close call, but he did his best to keep his voice calm.

  
Clay opened his arms so David could unfold himself from Clay’s protective hold. He had tears rolling down his cheeks and he was choking back sobs.  
Linda hurriedly grabbed at her son from Clay’s chest to pull into her own embrace, when David cried out in pain. She pulled him away from her and quickly looked him over and noticed that he was holding his right wrist.

  
“Baby? Are you okay?” Linda started to reach for the arm but David pulled it away from her.

  
“No! Don’t touch it!” David screamed out.

  
William came to stand next to David, reaching for his son’s shoulder. “Let her take a look, Buddy.”

  
While Clay was watching the family, he sat up, concerned that he had hurt David. He then heard the sirens that announced the arrival of the cops.

  
He watched as the cops approached Mrs. T and her family and started asking questions. He didn’t notice that someone was walking up behind him.

  
“So Spenser… Need a ride to the base hospital?” Derek from Alpha asked as he stood next to him watching the family with Clay.

  
“Nah, I think I’m good. Just a few scraps from the concrete.” Clay heaved himself off the concrete and looked around for his crutches. The adrenaline rush was over and now he was exhausted. “Mrs. T’s grandson is in good hands; I’m guessing a broken arm. There’s nothing else to do but give my statement to the cops.”

  
“Yeah, but don’t you think you should get that taken care of?” Derek gestured toward the other man’s feet.

  
“Huh?” Clay looked down. “Oh, fuck.” The cast on his right leg was cracked and misshapen. Bracing himself by grabbing Derek’s shoulder, he lifted his foot and prodded cautiously at the bottom of the cast. It was soft and spongy. “Double fuck,” he said, again.

  
“Looks like it needs to be replaced,” Derek observed.

  
“Yeah, I guess so.” Clay tried to picture Dr. Winters’ reaction when she saw the damage he’d inflicted. He remembered how she’d told him in no uncertain terms to bear absolutely no weight on his right foot until the fracture was completely healed. “I’m in soooo much trouble,” he sighed.

  
“Par for the course with you, Spenser,” Derek looped an arm around Clay’s shoulders and helped him over to his truck.

  
“Any chance I can get you to wait on contacting Trent and the Boss?” Clay asked, hopeful.

  
“Not on your life, Spenser.” Derek smiled at him as they continued to walk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the end at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe during these uncertain times.
> 
> It is finally Winter Break, so I get a little bit of free time to finish up this fic... And get started on SEAL Team Week in January.
> 
> Enjoy!

The nurse turned off the cast saw and gently pried the battered cast off Clay’s leg. “Oh, dear,” she murmured as his foot came into view.

“What?” Clay pushed himself up onto his elbows, straining to see. His lower leg was pale, the skin cracked and scaly, as was to be expected after three weeks in a cast. What he didn’t expect to see was the tremendous amount of swelling that was present in his right heel. “Oh, shit.”

“I’d have to agree with that assessment.” Dr. Winters stood in the doorway and she looked anything but pleased. “What on Earth have you done, Petty Officer Spenser?”

“Well, um, I sort of, uh…” Clay started to stammer out.

“You walked on it didn’t you? After I specifically told you not to.” Dr. Winters accused.

“Yes, but…” Clay started to defend himself.

The doctor turned to the nurse, cutting Clay’s explanation off. “Send him to get x-rays. I need a lateral and an axial of both heels and tomograms of the right heel. Let me know when he’s done.” And with that she was gone.

“And I thought combat medics had a bad bedside manner,” Clay muttered.

The nurse patted his shoulder and gave him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t take it personally. She’s like that with everyone. Now sit tight for a minute while I get a wheelchair and we will get you over to radiology, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Clay stared dejectedly at his foot while he waited. It was beginning to throb and visions of surgery and a long, unpleasant recovery period spooled through his mind like a bad movie.

***

For the third time in less than six weeks, Clay found himself impatiently watching Dr. Winters draw lines and calculate angles on the computer in the exam room. “In spite of your blatant disregard for my instructions, you seem to have gotten lucky, Petty Officer Spenser.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Clay asked wearily.

“Meaning the fracture has not been displaced at all.” Dr. Winters stated.

“So, no surgery?” Clay hopefully asked.

“No.” Clay started to heave a sigh of relief but paused when the doctor held up her hand. “However, your little escapade does complicate things. I can’t replace the cast until the swelling in your heel is gone. That means another week of bed rest, ice and elevation.”

Clay buried his face in his hand. “Great,” he groaned unhappily.

“If you’d followed my instructions…” Dr. Winters began.

“Hey, give me a break, would you?” Clay had had enough. “It’s not like I went jogging, for crying out loud! It was an emergency. I had no choice!”

“An emergency?” Dr. Winters stared at him, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows raised skeptically.

“Yes, doctor. An emergency,” He snarled back. “I am in the Navy. My job is to protect the citizens of this nation and when I see someone who needs my help, I can’t stand there and do nothing!” He was getting geared up for a good, long rant when a tap on the door interrupted him.

“There’s the man of the hour.” Eric Blackburn walked into the room with a smile on his face. “Hi Doc,” he greeted Dr. Winters who nodded in response. “Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to have a word with our human shield here.”

Dr. Winters’ eyebrows climbed higher.

“Thought you might like to know that the kid had a clean break in his wrist and will be in a cast for six weeks.” Blackburn said. “No further damage.”

Clay let a breath out through his teeth. “I’m going to have a long talk to that neighbor about speeding through the parking lot.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I think the police have already taken care of that,” Blackburn replied with a grin.

“How’s the kid doing? I mean, he almost got run over by a car.” Clay asked.

“Thanks to you, just a broken wrist. You did a good job today, Clay. By jumping in front of the car, grabbing him, and taking the brunt of the impact of the ground, he is no worse for wear. And according to Derek you had to cover what? Twenty yards of asphalt and wet grass to get there? And on a broken foot.” Eric shook his head in amazement.

“Yeah, well,” Clay shrugged and cast a sidelong glance toward Dr. Winters. “You do what you gotta do.”

“Well, I’d say this one was above and beyond the call of duty.” Blackburn said as he shook Clay’s hand. “Good work, Clay. Very good work.”

“Thank you, sir.” Clay replied, starting to form a blush.

“Doc, you take good care of my man,” Blackburn admonished cheerfully as he left the room. “He saved someone’s life today.”

Clay found a certain amount of satisfaction in the fact that Dr. Winters seemed to have a great deal of trouble looking him in the eye for the remainder of their consultation. He supposed it was the closest thing to an apology he would ever get from her. But, somehow, it was enough.

***

Much to Clay’s dismay and RJ’s delight, he was forced to spend another week at the Perry household. The strict regimen of ice, elevation and anti-inflammatory medication had his heel feeling better in no time. When he went back to Dr. Winters’ office for a follow-up, she was so nice to him it set his teeth on edge. Another series of x-rays revealed that not only had his fracture remained stable, it had continued to heal and was now barely visible.

“In fact,” The doctor informed him, “I think it would be safe to put you in an Aircast walking boot at this point.”

“For how long?” Clay was apprehensive of the answer.

“Two weeks, then we’ll get another set of x-rays and re-evaluate. But, if you can avoid any further rescue missions,” here she actually smiled. Was it possible that frosty Dr. Winters had a sense of humor? I suspect you’ll be able to resume weight bearing with the aid of an orthotic shoe insert.”

Clay wanted nothing more than to jump off the exam table and perform an impromptu victory dance, but he settled for a fervent, “Thank God!” instead.

***

For the second time in just over a month, Clay packed his things, kissed Naima and RJ goodbye and climbed into the front seat of Ray’s Jeep with a sigh of relief.

“I’d take that personally, you know,” Ray commented with a smile, “But I know how helpful my kids can be whenever someone is over.”

They made the short drive to Clay’s apartment and arrived just in time to see Mrs. T saying goodbye to her son’s family. There was a lime green cast on the grandson’s wrist, but otherwise he looked no worse for the wear. Clay, who hadn’t seen her or the family since the day that he had been forced to jump in front of the car, was out of the Jeep almost before it had rolled to a stop.

“Mrs. T!” He hobbled up the steps as quickly as the bulking walking boot would allow.

She was waiting for him at the top, her arms open and her face awash with tears. “Oh, Clay!” She said and gave him a strong embrace. She loosened her grip and took a half step back to look him in the eye. “Thank you,” She said. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” Clay simply stated, and he meant it. “I would have come to see you and your family before now, but this damn foot had me laid up.”

Mrs. T nodded. “William told me. You’re going to be okay, aren’t you Clay? You didn’t hurt yourself helping David, did you?"

“I’m going to be fine,” he reassured her. “I just had a bunch of x-rays and saw my doctor this morning. She gave me a very good report. I have to wear this walking boot for a couple of weeks and take it easy for a couple more and then I’ll be as good as new.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I’d have never forgiven myself if you’d been hurt because of my grandson.” She stated.

“Now, Mrs. T, it was an accident. It could have been anyone standing in that parking lot. You have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. I’m just glad that David is okay.” Clay explained.

“Thanks to you, he’s going to be just fine.” She threw her arms around him and gave him another fierce hug. “Now come inside, Clay, and tell me everything that happened over the past week."

Ray and Derek, who opened his door upon hearing Clay’s voice, were left standing in the hallway, apparently forgotten. They exchanged an amused glance. “So, is it just me” Derek inquired, “Or does every woman he meets wants to hug and mother the hell out of him?”

“Only the mothers and little girls,” Ray replied with a grin. “He doesn’t do nearly as well with the ones in between. Though, not for lack of trying.”

***

The next two weeks went by more quickly than Clay thought they would. Mrs. Turpin’s family left and with them gone, she turned her attention to Clay. With Clay now more mobile than he was in his cast, they had a standing date at a local cage less than a block from their apartments. They would walk there for some exercise and lunch, then came back to one or the other’s apartments to watch their ‘stories’ as Mrs. T called them.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow,” Clay had his walking cast removed that morning and was due back on base to work on limited duty with the team the following day. “I’m stuck pushing papers for the next two weeks until I’m cleared for active duty again."

“I thought you were eager to go back to work, dear.” Mrs. T inquired.

“I am, I am. But I’m going to miss you, Mrs. T.” Clay said. “Once I’m cleared, I won’t see you often."

“Sweet talker,” she chided.

“Well, I am. And there’s no way I would be able to watch General Hospital or Days of our Lives on base. If we had a TV in the team room, I won’t be able to watch it. The guys would never let me live it down. How am I going to get through the day without my daily dose of Wendy?” Clay complained.

“I think I know just how to solve your problem!” Mrs. Turpin rummaged through the pile of magazines on her coffee table. “Here you go!”

Clay took the glossy magazine she handed him and stared at it curiously. “Soap Opera Weekly? I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

“Oh, yes. I get it at the grocery store every week. It gives you a little summary of what’s happening on all the stories in case you miss one and there are all sorts of interviews and pictures and such. I think you might be interested in page 24.”

Clay flipped through the pages quickly. “Wendy!”

“You should be able to hide it in all those books you read.” Mrs. Turpin said with a smirk.

“I’ll do that,” he said with a grin. “Thanks, Mrs. T, for everything.”

“You’re very welcome.” She patted his arm and turned back to the television.

“Hey, Mrs. T?” Clay asked.

“Hmmm?” She responded, getting immersed in the drama again.

“Can you picture Wendy and I together?” He held the magazine, still open to the actress’ image, next to his own face.

Mrs. Turpin looked from Clay to the picture and back again. “You do make a cute couple,” she admitted.

“Too bad I’m not an actor instead of a sailor, huh?” Clay stated.

“Personally, I’m very glad you’re a sailor,” Mrs. T replied with a smile, “Oh, ‘Days of Our Lives’ is starting! I wonder if Marlena will be on today?”

Clay slouched in his chair and propped his feet up on the ottoman. “Only one way to find out, Mrs. T. Only one way to find out.”

***

Clay Spenser had a quick pace and a smile on his face as he bounded into the team room on his first day back on active duty. “Morning Sonny!”

“You’re in a fine mood this morning, Tinkerbell.” Bravo 3 observed.

“Well, it is my first day back on active duty. No more pushing paper around a table. I thought I was going to go crazy in that room.” Clay explained as he opened his cage.

“You know Blackburn is going to make us do drills… in the rain today.” Sonny stated the obvious.

“He is? It’s just a little bit of rain.” Clay stated as he opened his locker and tucked a box of books on a shelf… And there might have been a magazine tucked into between a book or too.

Just about then, the rest of the team came into the team room. It took one look from Jason and it had him asking, “What’s with you?”

“Me?” Clay gave Jason his very best innocent look. “Not a thing. Just happy to be healthy and back in action, that’s all.”

Sonny snorted in disbelief. “What’s her name, Ken Doll?”

“Now, why do you think that just because I’m in a good mood, it has something to do with a woman?” Clay defended himself.

“What’s her name?” Ray leveled a look at him.

“Sharon,” Clay conceded with a grin. “You can’t always trust the first impression. She’s nothing like we thought she was. I took her to that little Italian place near the hospital and then she invited me back to her place and…” Clay let the guys’ imagination run.

“What do you mean she’s nothing like WE thought she was?” Sonny asked, clearly confused.

“Yeah, Spenser, we don’t know anyone named Sharon.” Brock piped up, petting Cerb.

“Sure you guys do.” Clay nodded his head.

“Clay, no we don’t.” Trent said from his cage.

“You guys do. Each of you have driven me to her office many times these last couple of months. I know I’m the only one that has really spoken to her…” Clay explained.

This got Trent out of his cage. “Wait, Sharon Winters?!” Trent stared at the rookie. “You mean Sharon Winters as in Dr. Sharon Winters?!”

“Yeah. I asked if she would go on a date at the end of my last appointment and she said yes.” Clay clarified for the team.

“You asked her out, Peter Pan?” Sonny asked.

“Yeah,” Clay was starting to look confused at their reaction.

“Just flat out asked her out?” Jason asked.

“Yeah,” Clay replied with exaggerated patience. “You know, I spoke with her, asked if she wanted to go get dinner, she said yes. Why is this so hard for everyone to understand?”

“Because you hate her!” Ray basically shrieked. “You called her Frosty the Snow Woman!”

“Well, yeah, but that was before I got to know her. She’s really sweet if you give her a chance.” Clay explained.

“But she treated you like crap!” Jason pointed out.

“Yeah, sort of, I guess. But that’s all in the past now,” Clay replied earnestly. “See, it turns out she went through a nasty divorce last year. And, to top it off, her ex-husband was in the Navy too. She had a chip on her shoulder when it came to men in general, but particularly sailors. But after the thing with Mrs. Turpin’s grandson, I guess she just saw me in a new light. Anyway, we are going out again this weekend as long as there aren’t any spin-ups.”

“Unbelievable, Bam Bam.” Sonny stated, shaking his head.

“What’s so unbelievable? She is beautiful, smart, both like the same books. It’s a good match for the both of us.” Clay reasoned with the team.

“Ken Doll, you take the cake! If anyone else had caught a rogue gust of wind while landing a HAHO, they would wind up with a broken neck. You ended up not only saving your neighbor’s grandson’s life but getting yourself a girlfriend. I will never understand this weird luck of yours.”

“The best bad luck,” Clay said with a grin, and caused some chuckles around the team.

“Huh?” Sonny looked at him confused.

“Something Davis told me recently. I’ve got the best bad luck of anyone she’s ever known.” Clay revealed.

“The best bad luck,” Sonny said thoughtfully. “You know, I think she might be onto something.”

“I think she might be,” Jason agreed. “Come on guys, let’s get ready for whatever Blackburn has planned for us today.”

With that, everyone turned to their cages and prepared for the day now that Bravo Team was finally whole again.

**Author's Note:**

> FYI for everyone...
> 
> I'm a high school teacher that teaches Health Science courses. We are full remote-learning right now, and it is taking a lot of my time to create the coursework, load it, host Zoom classes and then grade their work.
> 
> I will be finishing all the stories that I start, but please be patient. I can only write in my free time right now, but that is in limited quantities right now.
> 
> Thank you for the patience and grace!


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